I've dressed children up as Indiana Jones and the Ingalls children. I've assisted in "science" experiements that require baking soda, vinegar and food coloring. I've downloaded songs from legalsounds for Joe, and gone "fishing" with John.

Today is the first day of a fourteen-day long spring "break" from school. More like a spring "work" for mom. I can't really complain though...I just returned from a five day long trip to Utah with my mom and dad, and WITHOUT any of my children. It was pure bliss...just long enough to relax and really miss them before I came back. I wish there was a way to store up patience and energy, but I guess it doesn't really work that way.

How many times a day do you think the word "mom" is spoken in my house? I'm seriously considering getting one of those little counter thingies like they use and Costco and clicking it every time I hear it? Any estimates?

Well, time to go....Charlie just came in crying and telling me that the song Maggie was playing on the piano has given him a headache. Harry has just brought me a flyer he made for a "science club" to be held at our house this week. He wants me to make 30 copies for him to take around to all the kids in the neighborhood. Just what I need...more kids at my house. At least THEY won't be able to call me mom.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

I've made it part of my personal mama-code to never (except in cases of EXTREME emergencies)take more than two children at a time to the grocery store with me. And, it's not because I think it's important to have one-on-one time with each child and thus take a "date" with each one when I run errands. It's really more along the lines of self preservation, and also because I want my children to remember me as a semi-sane person...and not the frazzled, half-crazed person I'm sure I would be if I ever broke the mama-code and took more than two children to the store with me.

Nothing bad happened at the store today...this isn't a sad story. I had two children with me, John and Jack, dressed adorably in green and blue striped shirts with matching shorts. I was in a breezy new spring-green skirt and the weather was fine. I loaded the two boys into the cart.It was one of those terrible, huge, and obnoxiously loud "car carts"...you know, the kind where the kids sit in front and you try and maneuver the aisles without knocking anything over while at the same time making sure your children don't climb out or get their fingers run over. I passed by the complimentary anti-bacterial wipes without a second thought, (because really, what's the point? It would take an industrial strength power washer to wipe away the germs of the thousands of snotty-nosed kids who have occupied this space) and hoped my kid's immunizations and immune systems are up to snuff. I headed directly for the donuts. This is another part of my grocery store mama-code. Go first to the donuts, give each child a sugary treat, (but not a chocolate one...that's just asking for trouble) and hurry on with your shopping before any shenanagins begin. From there, I headed straight to the back of the store for milk. No matter that I'm criss-crossing the store and passing the bread aisle right by...this I know...milk MUST go in the cart first. Then, as I'm loading my eight gallons of milk into the cart, (yes, I said eight and that MIGHT last me six days)I hear someone calling my name. I instantly paste the grocery store smile on my face and turn to see an an old friend of a friend giving a friendly wave. She's there, in her workout clothes, pushing a regular standard cart, and is decidedly NOT loading eight gallons of milk into her cart. She has two children, who are the ages of my two oldest children, and I assume they are in school....given the workout clothes and standard cart. We exchange friendly words, comment on the weather, and she tells me that my boys are so cute. She continues on her way and I am struck by a thought.

She has moved on and is so completely out of the little child stage. She can work out in the morning and take a quick trip to the grocery store. She hasn't bought diapers in years. She doesn't have car seats in her car and probably can't even guess at what a can of formula costs anymore. And while we were once in this stage together, and our occaisonal bump-ins at the grocery store were a time where we could commiserate and share common experiences, she has moved on to a world I still cannot yet imagine. And I am STILL in a stage, I suspect, she can hardly begin to remember. I don't know why this struck me so...and I don't really know how it made me feel. A little SAD for myself that I'm still pushing around the huge cart...a little HAPPY for myself that I'm still pushing around the huge cart....a little JEALOUS of her for pushing around a standard cart...but also a little bit SORRY for her that she's moved onto pushing around a standard cart. My mother once said something to me that made me think (well, she's said lots of things to make me think, but I find this thought most appropriate for this post). She said, "Brooke, take your time...those children are going to leave your home every bit as quickly as you've brought them into it." Ouch...that hurts...while I was busy having children every other year, I never looked ahead to the time where they would be leaving every other year. So, I'm trying to enjoy pushing around the huge cart, and dressing my boys in identically striped shirts and having the word "mom" spoken (or screamed or whined) hundreds of time every day.

This is my third set of children to enjoy this battery powered jeep...and I've even relaxed enough to let them bring it into the house and drive it all over my freshly polished stone floors.

I've lately not been feeling myself. I'm still hurting quite a bit and am missing the comfort that my steroid treatment provided. I spend a lot of time reading on my bed...because it's the only place I can carve out and claim for myself. I've always wanted a bed full of pillows and a fluffy comforter...you know...like the ones you see in magazines. It's never really seemd very practical however. But, slowly over the past few months, I've been working on making my room my own...a retreat you might say. I've become a bit territorial about it. If you were to count, you'd find I have no fewer than 18 pillows on my bed. I have those cute little wall lamps on either side of the bed. I love nothing more than to come into my room and see this:

I even have a love seat at the end of my bed where I can sit and get dressed:

On days where I'm not feeling so great, this is definately a bright spot for me. I even bought fresh flowers and put them on my dresser. For some reason, it makes me supremely happy...and right now I'm taking what I can get in that department.

Last night, after a long day of work and pain, I wearily climbed the stairs for the last time of the day, ready to settle into my super soft and comfy bed...to put my feet up and enjoy reading the last chapter of my new book. Imagine my distress when my eyes met with this image instead:And on my pretty little love seat, this:

I almost lost it...but then I took a deep breath, pasted the grocery store smile on my face and reminded myself that just like the time I spend pushing around the huge car cart will someday come to an end, so will the time when my children want to all pile into my super soft bed TOGETHER and snuggle up for a good night sleep. Hopefully, it will be be before they get too heavy for me to carry them to their own beds!

And finally, if anyone else out there is feeling like I do sometimes...unable to keep up with all the craft and sewing blogs, and feeling like an utter failure for not being able to do it all, you might enjoy this image:

Not that I am currently or have any future plans to work on such a project, but I take solace in that fact that I have undertaken such a project six times!